"He sacrificed an entire island of people. How could he possibly die? Not only did he not die, but he also received the Feast-Goer's… reward."
The atmosphere in the Prayer Room became oppressively tense after the Pope said these words.
Charles lifted his gaze to the three-meter-tall stone sculpture in front of him, his expression unusually solemn.
This was a scenario he hadn't anticipated; Swan hadn't died and now bore a deep grudge against him.
Most of the situation had been orchestrated by the Grey Robes and the Pope; he was just there to pick up the pieces.
"What is this 'reward' from the Feast-Goer?" Charles asked.
"I don't know. When the Feast-Goer left, Swan followed Him. The news of his reward was told to me by the omniscient and omnipotent Light God,
"I'm sorry, I tried to stop him but failed. He's too strong, far stronger than I." The Pope's voice was filled with helplessness.
Stronger than the Pope? Charles's heart sank; this was dreadfully bad news.
